


Trains

by Jess4400



Category: The Good Doctor (TV 2017)
Genre: Autism, Brotherly Love, SO SORRY, Special Interests, Trains, light descriptions of abuse, starts off happy but then gets sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-28 19:09:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12613440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jess4400/pseuds/Jess4400
Summary: "Whether you live in a city or a small town, and whether you drive a car, take the bus or ride a train, at some point in the day, everyone is a pedestrian."-Anthony FoxxOr: Shaun really likes trains. Until he doesn't.





	Trains

**Author's Note:**

> I really like The Good Doctor and I am honestly so shook that there are only 8 fics published for this fandom. Expect to hear more from me. 
> 
> Hope you like!

You’re two when you find your first special interest.

On the day that the snow is falling and your house smells like cinnamon, your mom brings home a train set. She got it a while back at a yard sale and figured you’d like it, she says. She hands you the beaten up box with the $5 sticker still stuck to the side. You look inside and examine each piece. You don’t say thank you, but you figure she understands your gratitude by the way you’re already piecing together the tracks.

Ever since then you’ve been enamored with the toy. You sit for hours rocking, laughing, and just _playing_ like any other kid. Your mom watches you fondly from your playroom’s door frame. Your dad meets her eyes and shakes his head. You create an intricate city. You create people who live in _your_ world by _your_ rules. You’re happy, but even still, the town feels incomplete. You can’t figure out why.

When Steve is born five years later, your mom buys a new train. It’s a small burgundy and silver locomotive. It’s not your birthday. It’s not Christmas. You stare at the toy and wait for an explanation.

“For Steve,” she says. “So he can play with you when he gets a little older.” You don’t respond. You’re not sure how to feel about that.

 

* * *

 

When Steve is older and you’ve gotten a little better at words, you do play. You play for hours. You are reluctant, at first, to let him join you. This is yours and yours alone. But then you see the way he clutches his train and smiles at you when he is five years old and you are nine. You hand him the remote. He grins and jumps around like he’s seen you do when you’re excited.

A giddy feeling rises in you every time you see your brother smile. You flap your hands to the beat of his footfalls. Up, down, up, down. When he settles, you explain the rules first. The rules are the most important part of any game. Then, you explain everything else. The people, the buildings, the tracks, the trains, the jobs, the farms. Your brother lays on his stomach and listens to your babbling with a look of wonder written on his face. You’re so happy. Someone finally wants to learn about something important to you. You talk and let him try out his train on the track. It’s a little too small; The wheels don’t quite fit on the tracks, but somehow it feels right. You flash him a small curve of your lips and start reciting everything you can remember about your city.

He interrupts a few times, but you don’t get angry. You have trouble with social stuff too. He asks questions and makes suggestions. Lots and lots of questions and suggestions.

“Why does Betty live by herself?” (“She’s divorced.”)

“We should move the farm so it’s closer to the supermarket! So it’s easier for the farmers to get their corn to the store!” (“No. The pollution from the city is not good for crops, Steve.”)

“How do the people know what time to get on the train?” (“Jane posts the schedule every Monday”)

“John needs more workers in his store.” (“Okay. Okay. Um. You can make a few characters to work there.”)

“Can my character have purple hair?” (“Yes.”)

While you don’t tire of your brother’s endless optimism about the fate of your shared world, you do tire of talking. He seems to notice this. He reports that he’ll be right back and runs to your shared room. He comes back with a tub of broken crayons and some copy paper.

“We can draw our characters and buildings and stuff.” You nod. You really don’t see the point. Everything is right there, maybe not physically, but there, in your imagination. Drawing it ruins the secret. But if it helps Steve connect with you, you’re not complaining. Your world isn’t a secret anymore. You’re not sure if you’re glad or sad.

Every day, Steve comes home wielding drawings he made at school. He shows you with pride in his face and a gap in his tooth. You add them to the playroom. You play along, too. You steal little bits of tin foil from the kitchen and ball them up to make coal. You use playdoh to make the corn from John’s store. You even cut up your old socks to make blankets for the people because winter is setting in. Everything is coming together. Your world is real now. You decide you’re glad.

 

* * *

 

Your dad, however, is not glad.

He is adamant that you shouldn't be playing with toys at your age. His lip curls in disgust every time he sees you pick up the controller or infodump about your trainset. One day, he is angry but you don’t know why. He sees you playing with Steve and loses it. He kicks the tracks and the pieces scatter everywhere. You worry if your people’s health insurance covers this. You worry if _your_ health insurance will cover this if he gives you a broken nose. He’s hit you before, but he’s never been quite this out of control. You and Steve run to your room and slam the door before he can ‘take his anger out on you’ as Steve says. You’re not sure what that means, but you have the feeling you don’t want to find out. You check three times to make sure the door is locked. You hear your mom’s voice screaming at him to stop. He yells back. They argue. You hear a glass break. You rock back and forth. It’s too much. You’re scared. You shut down. Steve holds you until you both hear your dad’s heavy footsteps echo out the front door after he slams it.

Steve peeks outside the door to make sure mom’s okay. He runs to her side, gives her a hug, and comforts her. You stay in your room, hiding under the covers. You’re not good at comforting people. You wonder how your people will feel when they assess the damage. Will they be angry with you for not stopping him? Will they be sad that their homes and businesses are destroyed? You try to match up each character with the emotions chart you hate so much at school. Betty will be sad. John will try to bring the city back together. Mayor Irene will put new legislature in place to protect the city from foreign attacks. Steve will…

Steve will..

You’re not sure what Steve will do.

 

* * *

 

The next day, your father doesn’t come home. You’re relieved, but you can tell your mom and Steve are worried. “Why?” You wonder. You don’t understand why they care so much about someone who doesn’t care about them. But then again, you don’t understand a lot of things.

Steve is on damage control. He picks up the smooshed corn and tears off a few pieces. He tries to mold those pieces into something resembling corn, but the green and yellow are blended together. It looks horrible. You flap your hands in distress. He notices and tries to put the rest of the pieces back, but it’s not right. The corn is a pile of yellow and green goo. The north track doesn’t deviate that far left. The stop sign is supposed to be further up. The store is in ruin. Your dad is not supposed to go near your city, but he did. It’s not right. It’s not right it’s not right it’s not right it’s not right. You start smacking yourself in the face because _it’s not right,_ and _how could you let this happen? You were supposed to protect them!_ You’re the worst person on the whole planet. You had _one_ thing you could do that made Steve happy and you ruined it.

Steve grabs your hands and keeps them away from your face. You struggle, not because you want to hit him, but because you want to keep hitting yourself. He says soft things that you can’t comprehend at the moment. Your whole body feels like it weighs a million pounds. You stop trying to move your hands. Steve ruffles your hair.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he says. “The town just had an earthquake. Nothing will be the same, but that’s okay. We can rebuild and make it better. The people'll be stronger. That’s not so bad, right?”

You strain your neck to look at the city. You see the damage. But now, you also see hope. You see Deborah open a food pantry to help feed the hungry people in the city. You see mayor Irene shaking hands with the president. You see John helping Betty rebuild her house. You look back at Steve.

You see him smile.

You feel contentment.

 

* * *

  

Your train obsession slowly fades away as you grow older, especially since you couldn’t lug the whole box to the school bus you now live in. You find an old medical book in the dump. You discover a new interest. Anatomy: The branch of science concerned with the bodily structure of humans. You think you want to be a surgeon when you grow up. Steve agrees.

“You’re the smart one,” he says after you open his present of plastic medical supplies, “You can do anything.” You want debate that statement, but something tells you that would be rude. That night, you go to sleep rubbing your thumb over the grooves in the toy scalpel and dream about saving people.

 

* * *

  

On the day that the copper pipes smelled like burnt food, Steve convinces you to hang out with some kids around his age. You don’t know why. You have Steve and he’s all you need. You think maybe this is more for him than for you.

“Why do I want them to be my friends?” You ask. He looks at you funny.

“Everybody needs friends, Shaun,” he answers in a clipped tone. Is he angry? Is he being sarcastic? You’re not sure. Before you can ask, he grabs your hand and leads you to the other kids in the warehouse. He introduces you. The kids judge you with their eyes but their mouths say nothing. You don’t need to talk in hide-and-go-seek tag. When the game begins, you find the perfect spot on top of an abandoned train. You get Steve’s attention and both of you climb the creaky ladder, Steve first and you second.

Steve’s excitement gets the better of him and he chatters away, despite your constant shushing. He paces back and forth while he talks. You think about telling him to sit down but you don’t because you know he’s excited. You should have. The next thing you know, you’re cradling his bleeding head in the back of an ambulance. You rock and rock and rock and rock. You look at your brother’s pale face and you cry.

You can't save him.

You decide you don’t like trains anymore.

 


End file.
